The Sister I Always Wanted
by darthsydious
Summary: I was given a prompt on tumblr: what if Eurus targeted Molly because Mycroft sees her as the sister he wished he had? Will be in two parts. Mollcroft brotp. Sherlolly.
1. Chapter 1

"What's this room?" John asked as they entered, then wished he hadn't. In the middle was a coffin, lined in satin. Sherlock looked at it with a frown, quietly thinking.

"Let's let Mykie figure this one out, Sherlock," Eurus' sing-song voice echoed over the loudspeaker. "We _never_ let big brother have a say, do we?" Sarcasm dripping from her voice, her image appeared on the screen at the far end of the room. "Well, Mycroft? Who do you suppose that's for?"

The screen winked black again, and Mycroft, suddenly the one thrust to the fore, hesitated. He looked around the room, not speaking for a moment.

"Well if you won't, I will," Sherlock stepped forward, and studied the coffin. "It's…simple. For someone practical about death and life, someone we both know."

"Someone all of us know," Mycroft replied, still looking at the lid.

"Irene Adler?" John suggested. "We all know her."

"No," both brothers replied.

"Look at it, it's far too simple for her tastes. And it's not Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock added "She's put in her will she'll be cremated."

Mycroft finally went to the lid that had been leaned against the wall. "Name-plate has been included," he turned it over, and Sherlock and John both frowned.

" _Sister_?" John was confused. "So…it's for Eurus?"

Mycroft was staring at the screen, already figured it out. "No. Not Eurus."

The television blinked back on, Eurus placidly sitting at the desk again. "No not me, big brother, never me, was it? You want a nice, normal sister, don't you? One who you don't have to lock up every day, one who bakes you jam bickies and pours out tea and you can use her as an excuse if you need to get out of a party, and incidentally set up with Sherlock, if he ever gets his head out of his bum. Lock her into the family too, hm? Won't mummy _love_ her, Mycroft?"

"Stop." The request was soft, pleading.

"Maybe she'll do better with her than she ever did with me. I mean…why shouldn't she?" Eurus stared at them through the camera, angry, almost laughing at the thought. "Why shouldn't our parents do so much better with her?"

"I don't understand," John spoke up at last. "Who?"

"Poor, stupid John," Eurus shook her head. "How do you even put up with his funny little brain, Sherlock?" she shrugged. "Well, Mykie, should we let him in on the secret? What did you tell a beloved young lady not so long ago?"

Mycroft pulled himself to his full height, paling considerably. "Leave her alone, Eurus, she's nothing to do with this-"

"She's everything to do with this!" Eurus insisted. "The woman who broke through my brother's defenses! Doctor Watson, if you say 'Irene Adler' one more time I'll clock you, I mean it," her smile was eerily teasing and familial, putting them all on edge. "Sex happens all the time, woohoo, doesn't mean anything at all. Least not in my experience. Though I'm not convinced Sherlock ever went that far with her," she narrowed her eyes at Mycroft. "Nor you…anyway," a wave of her hand and she was back on track. "Mycroft, your task in this room is to talk to everyone's favorite person in the whole wide world. Really open up to her, you know, just like a proper brother should. Three minutes on the clock, mind, or else I'll have to do away with her."

"Nobody can have a proper conversation in three minutes-" Mycroft spluttered.

"Temper-temper," Eurus chided. A timer appeared in the corner of the screen, as well as three different closed circuit television feeds. All three showed Molly Hooper moving around her kitchen.

"Molly," Sherlock breathed. "Eurus leave her alone!"

"Oh my, Sherlock at last showing his true colors?" Eurus smiled indulgently. "Perhaps I should have made this one for you, after all, you do love her, don't you?"

Sherlock hesitated, but he never took his eyes from the screen. "I do…" he murmured, regarding his pathologist. "I do love her."

"Hmm, and she knows it, you cheeky boy," Eurus answered. "But I think Mycroft owes our dear Miss Hooper an apology. Don't you, big brother?"

Mycroft didn't say anything, he met his sister's gaze evenly, though there was a touch of sadness behind his expression. Sadness and humility. "I owe you one too, I think," he said at last.

Eurus stared back at him, almost taken aback. "Well we aren't focusing on me," she said, brushing off his words. "Three minutes. Say what you should have said, and I won't detonate her flat."

"What words?!" Mycroft blustered.

"You know," Eurus added. "Timer starts now."

The noise of a phone ringing filled the empty space, and Mycroft suddenly found himself straightening his tie, as if Molly could see him on the other end.

"She never picks up the first time," Sherlock warned quietly.

"Yes she does," Mycroft answered.

"What?! Why?"

"If I was to hazard a guess it would be because I am not always calling her for a favor."

"Making her make you tea counts as a favor," Sherlock hissed, just as Molly answered.

" _Hello?"_

"Miss Hooper, I'm pleased you're able to answer my call."

 _"Well…I know you usually don't call unless something is the matter, you don't do 'friends'."_

There was a bite to her voice, Mycroft could hear the hurt behind it, especially her tossing his own words back at him.

"No, you're right, I do not," Mycroft answered. He opened his mouth, about to continue the thought, but Molly only shook her head.

" _What do you want, Mycroft?"_

"I wanted…I did not properly thank you, for your kindnesses, you were very good to bring me supper, and to recommend a wine to go with it. I am sorry if I misinterpreted your meaning."

" _Well, you Holmes men tend to get swelled heads about yourselves, for whatever reason. Go on then, what is it you needed?"_

"I don't…" Mycroft breathed through his nose, trying to ignore the fact that John and Sherlock were directly behind him. He didn't do 'moments'. He hated talking. Words were cumbersome and stupid at times, and he hated being so exposed. It grated against the very fiber of his being. Even if his family was completely normal, he supposed he would still dislike intimacy of any sort.

Hearing his labored breathing, Molly set aside the lemon she'd been slicing.

" _Mycroft what's wrong? Are you hurt?"_

"I am trying to tell you that I was wrong," he spoke at last.

On the screen, she smiled, chuckling to herself.

" _Not so easy, is it?"_

"No, it is not. I have not been kind to you, in the past. I think that I have been rather callous and without reason either, and for that I apologize."

Another smile, gentler.

" _I forgive you Mycroft. You have a difficult job. I know you must have to vent sometimes, I'd just appreciate not being an emotional punching bag if it's all the same to you."_

"No, you're quite right," he agreed. He glanced at the timer, it was still ticking away, down to two minutes flat.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock, time is racing, big brother," Eurus chimed in.

"The thing is," Mycroft blustered ahead, fidgeting. "I was wrong, Molly…what I said the other day, when you were so kindly trying to help me…I don't do friends,"

" _I know you don't,"_ Molly answered. _"It's all right. You don't have to apologize."_

"I don't do friends," Mycroft repeated. "Because I've always been a rubbish one. I've been a rather terrible brother as well, if I'm honest."

" _Sherlock adores you, in his own way. He may not say it, but he loves you. You do your best, Mycroft, you always have. Who can say they could do better, given the circumstances you both are in? Don't be so hard on yourself."_

Mycroft was looking at Eurus' screen in the corner of the television. "I've not always been a good brother, and for that I am sorry. I will do better from now on, that is all I can promise."

" _You've always kept your promises Mycroft,"_ Molly soothed. _"You're a good man. You might not see it, but you are. It's all right if you don't want to be my friend. You've got to do what's best for you, that's okay."_

"The point is, though," Mycroft licked his lips, finding them dry. He looked between Eurus' screen and Molly's. "When I told you I didn't do friends, I'd wanted to tell you that…that I'd rather have you for a sister…than a friend."

Molly stood still a moment.

Mycroft took a breath, deciding he'd come this far. "I've always kept an eye on you, since Sherlock's first stint at rehab, when he started going to Barts. I saw something of myself in you, that you were alone, the same as I was, though you weren't that way by choice. Your kindness fascinated be, your optimism despite people's cruelty of you, your warmth despite the cool regard most people hold of your profession. You're a reminder to me that there is still good in the world. I admire you greatly and I…I suppose I wanted to be able to protect that, to protect you. I protect the people I care about, it is what I'm best at. When I told you I didn't do 'friends', I should have said that 'friend' is too small a word for you. I can't always protect 'friends'," he glanced to John Watson, both of them thinking of Mary Watson, a bitter twinge in their hearts. "Family….family I would die for."

There was a sniffle on the other end.

"Sixty seconds," Eurus spoke up, breaking through the tense moment.

"Molly?" Mycroft shifted, uncomfortable. "Have I spoken out of turn?"

On the screen, they could see her shake her head, wiping her eyes.

" _Mycroft if you want a sister, I can be that for you, all you had to do was ask."_

Mycroft found himself looking at his fleshly sister again, who was staring intently at him. "I had a sister once," he said at last.

Eurus took in a short breath, clearly surprised.

" _Did you?"_ Molly's voice was soft. _"You never said. Was she like you and Sherlock?"_

Mycroft found himself blinking back tears, still regarding Eurus. "She would have been brilliant, if she'd had the opportunity. I think…if she'd been given the help and attention she wanted and needed…she'd be the sister I always wanted."

Eurus had stopped announcing the time. She stared at her eldest brother, confused at her feelings, at Mycroft's words.

" _Mycroft, are you there?"_

"I'm here," he answered, voice thick with emotion.

" _Listen I can't…I'm not like you or Sherlock, not clever like you are, I mean…and I know I can't replace the sister you lost, but…but if you'd still like a sister…like me to be that for you…I'd like that…I'd love that, if I'm honest."_

The timer was ticking down, ten seconds left. Mycroft did not know what Eurus would do, how she would react once the timer ran out. She might very well blow up Molly's flat just because she felt like it, because Mycroft wasn't exactly sticking to the script Eurus had set up for him. Time was running out and Mycroft felt he still had more to say:

"Thank you, sister-mine, and for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry if I have hurt you." Five seconds left. "For the record, Sherlock loves you, most ardently."

Molly smiled soft and gentle, touched. "I know he does. Thank you…" she hesitated a moment. "Brother-mine."

The timer blinked 'zero' and the screen shorted out.


	2. Chapter 2

The call ended so abruptly that Molly frowned. There was something almost final about Mycroft's words, and the way he seemed to be talking back and forth between her and another…no, Mycroft's words could not always be taken at face value. He had a talent for saying two things at once, thus forgoing telling a lie. After a moment, she pushed aside the cutting board and opened her contacts file, dialing the number underneath Mycroft's. It was the only other way she had of contacting the elder Holmes, via his PA.

" _I was waiting for you to figure something was wrong."_ Anthea didn't even bother to greet her. _"I'll have a car to you in five. Grab a bag, we may be overnight."_

Molly didn't know what was waiting for her, so she grabbed minimal supplies for herself, after which she took her first-aid kit (nicknamed Sherlock's kit, as she never knew what sort of injuries he'd come to her to fix), a change of clothes for Sherlock and a box of granola bars, just in case there wasn't food to be had where they were going.

They drove to the coast, three hours to the south of Wales.

"Detective Lestrade will be there as well," Anthea said. "Along with a few others."

"This wasn't just an average case then, not if Mycroft went along."

"He didn't have a choice," Anthea replied, somewhat grim.

"Sun is going down," Molly commented, finding she had nothing else but the obvious to say. "When did you last hear from Mycroft?"

"Early this morning. He told me if I hadn't heard from him by five to come and fetch you, and meet him at the address," she nodded to the GPS mounted to the dash. "I brought a thermos," Anthea said and reached behind them.

"I'll get it," Molly said and twisted herself around in the seat to reach it.

"Thanks. Leave the big one for them, they'll need something warm."

"Can't you tell me what's going on?" Molly carefully poured a cup for herself and another for Anthea, cradling the warmth in her palms before taking a drink. "Mycroft called me, he said a lot of things, I don't know how much you know or not-"

"It's their sister." Anthea kept her eyes on the road, just as unsure of how much Molly knew. She herself barely knew anything, just the bits and pieces Mycroft had allowed her, out of necessity. "They have a sister, her name is Eurus, and she's not well."

Molly nodded slowly. "He told me he _had_ a sister."

Anthea glanced at her, then back out the windscreen. "I suppose he did." She would say no more on the matter, and Molly didn't like to pry, no matter how confusing it was.

They arrived at a long-burned down house, a helicopter circling noisily overhead, about to land in the clearing behind the house. Men were pouring out of the cars and vans, shouting orders.

Amid them all, Mycroft sat on the back of an ambulance, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He stared into the middle distance.

"Mycroft!" Anthea and Molly both went running for him as Lestrade barked at his men, and everyone fanned out.

"Mycroft, what happened? Where is Sherlock?" Molly asked.

"It's happening again you see," he stared glassily past them. "It's happening all over again. Sherlock couldn't find Victor and he can't find John and it's my fault…it's my- fault…"

"No, no it's not," Molly cupped his face in her hands. "Listen to me, this is not your fault, Mycroft-"

To her surprise, and Anthea's, Mycroft frowned, his eyes shut and he buried his face in his hands.

Climbing up beside him, Molly wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close to her. "You don't believe me now, but this is not your fault…it's not…it's not…it's not..." Over and over the mantra went, and she kissed his forehead soothing him as he tried to control his shaking.

In a little while, John came stumbling around the corner of the house, jelly-legged and soaking wet. He was supported on either side by Donovan and Lestrade. They boosted him up into the back of the second ambulance, draping a blanket over him as EMT's started looking him over.

"I'll be right back," Molly said in Mycroft's ear over the noise around them. Wordlessly, he nodded.

"John?"

He looked up, pale, eyes red-rimmed.

"Molls," he breathed, and embraced her, pressing her cheek. He was weak, weak from the shock of nearly drowning as well as the terrible events at Sherrinford.

"Gosh you're freezing, I brought a change of clothes, the pants won't fit, but there's a clean shirt, it's one of Sherlock's, do you want it?"

"Yes," the EMT over John's shoulder said. "Anything at all dry that you have."

"I'll be right back," she promised and hurried to Anthea's car. Grabbing the thermos and her overnight bag, she hurried first to John's ambulance. "Here's the clothes, I forgot I packed a track suit, so if you don't mind-"

"He doesn't," the EMT said.

John was still aware enough to roll his eyes. By now they'd laid him on the gurney.

"What happened?" she asked softly. "John tell me what happened?"

"Everything," he shook his head. "Everything," he could say no more, exhaustion overtaking him. Knowing she was in the way, Molly stepped back, leaving the dry clothes for him.

Mycroft sat still, watching the house, watching Lestrade and new agents that Eurus had never spoken to wait for Sherlock's signal outside of the old Holmes manor.

"I hate this house," he muttered to himself.

"Sorry?"

He looked up, surprised to see Molly standing there again. Though he shouldn't have been, really, she had a habit of turning up when someone was needed most. Then she said the most glorious words in the world:

"I brought tea."

"Bless you for that," he heaved a sigh.

She smiled then, genuinely, and unscrewed the lid, pouring him a steaming cup. "Actually, Anthea brought it, so the thanks should go to her."

"I will do so tomorrow," Mycroft promised and took a sip, sighing deeply. "What a mess…"

"I know," Molly leaned against him, head against his shoulder. "It's a mess right now, but tomorrow will be better."

"How?" he asked, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. All he could think of was the endless list of phone-calls he'd have to field, the questions he'd have to answer, the people he needed to replace. His parents…good God, he had to call his parents and that was bad enough. A secret this long in the closet and he'd be the one to take the blame, he'd have to. Uncle Rudy was dead, and… no it was all too exhausting to even contemplate. Molly must have felt him physically sag under the weight of his thoughts for she slipped her arm through his, boosting him up a little.

"Stop thinking," she ordered gently. "You've thought enough for the day. Just stop thinking about everyone else. Think about what you want, go on, shut your eyes."

Tiredly, he obeyed. "And?"

"Now just say what you want. What's the one thing that would make you feel better right now?"

"Family," he murmured softly.

Commotion over by the house made them both turn. There was a flood of people surging toward the front door.

"It's Eurus-" he jumped down off the ambulance, forgetting the tea and his exhaustion momentarily. Big brother to the defense, as always. "Get back! Everyone give them room,"

Molly followed suit, pushing people back as Mycroft moved forward, trying to keep his steps even. Lestrade saw and began ushering his men away. The agents under Mycroft stepped back, though ready to come to his aid if necessary.

The crowds parted, and Sherlock stepped through them, carrying Eurus in his arms.

"Is she hurt? Is she all right?" Mycroft wanted to know.

Sherlock shook his head. "She's in shock, she won't answer me anymore. But she won't cause any more harm."

"We have a helicopter to take her back to the island, Mr. Holmes," an agent said.

All the while, Molly stood some little ways from Sherlock and Eurus and Mycroft. Together, the two brothers spoke quietly, back and forth, murmuring about what should be done. Molly wasn't certain what had happened, clearly this all had come about by their sister's hand. Now, Molly could only see a pale woman, clearly in shock, lucid. She didn't react to the flashing lights or the noise surrounding them. Now and then, her hands flexed, gripping the collar of Sherlock's coat, as if making sure he was real.

"-We can take her back, but changes must be put in place." Sherlock's voice cut into Molly's observations, startling her back to the present.

"Agreed," Mycroft nodded. "You and I will go, along with some of the agents. If you can sit with her, the rest of us can put something together."

"Yes."

They turned toward the helicopter, and Molly found herself taking a step towards them all before she even realized it.

Both brothers paused, seeing her. Sherlock realized she was there, and did not move, rooted to the spot.

"I will carry her," Mycroft offered, Molly realized then that Eurus' feet were bare.

"I'll be right back, I promise," Sherlock murmured to Eurus, and carefully handed her over to Mycroft, who Molly noted cradled her as tenderly as he could. She was touched to see him so caring. There was a lifetime of regret and sorrow behind his expression. Mycroft rested his cheek against Eurus' forehead, eyes shut. Over the din of the helicopter blades, she couldn't' hear what he was saying to Eurus, but whatever it was, it garnered no reaction from her, at least from her face. Her hands still flexed, testing the realness of her brother.

Sherlock tried to neaten his coat as he approached her. Haggard, he drew Molly close to him, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, the familiar curve of her neck under his fingertips as he traced a path with his hands, wrapping his arms around her.

"I thought- I thought-" he couldn't get the words out, and Molly hushed him.

"I'm here, I'm here, we're all alive. John is all right, they found him in time. He's okay."

He leaned back in her arms, just enough so that he could see her. "I love you, I should have told you…I love you."

She smiled tearfully, all warmth and goodness and everything that gave him comfort and peace. Rising up on tip-toe, she kissed him, and all the noise and frustration and chaos of the day fell away for those glorious moments.

"We'll talk, later, because we have a lot to talk about," she carded her fingers through his dark curls, and he sighed against her touch, resting his forehead against hers. "Right now," she stepped back a little, his hands resting on her hips. "Right now someone else needs you," she looked over his shoulder, where Mycroft sat in the helicopter, Eurus was placid, allowing the agent to handcuff her wrists and feet. She was not confused, but there was no strength left in her to put up a fight, no strength or desire. "Go take care of your sister. I'll be waiting when you get back."

"But-"

She silenced him with a kiss. "Go on."

Reluctantly, but knowing where his first duty lay, he headed to the helicopter. Anthea and Lestrade came to stand beside her as the helicopter took off, heading back toward Sherrinford.

"Someone needs to ride with John in the ambulance," Anthea said.

"I'll go," Molly volunteered. "I imagine Mycroft and Sherlock will need to be debriefed when they return, and it's probably not for my ears. Besides, John shouldn't wake up alone."

"Thank you," Anthea said, and meant it.

Before Molly headed to the ambulance, she hugged Greg, wishing him a good night and thanking him for making the journey. The night wasn't over yet, and all of them had a long wait ahead.

 **Two Days Later, Mycroft's House**

"How are you feeling?"

Mycroft glanced at Molly's reflection in the mirror, then went back to tying his tie. "Better, thank you,"

"Liar."

He glanced, slightly annoyed, at her reflection again, before sighing heavily, façade gone. "I am exhausted. And today I must face mummy and father."

"Sherlock will be there," she soothed.

"I'm surprised he didn't come with you, given your current state," he looked pointedly at her middle. To most, it would just seem as if her tunic was creating an illusion. Mycroft knew better, and the gentle swell of her belly told of what was to come. If he was to guess, he would say she was just on the cusp of sixteen weeks.

She smiled, blushing, clearly happy. "He's downstairs, I had him put the kettle on."

"Sherlock making tea, you do bring out the best in him, my dear." He managed a small smile then, glad to see her at ease.

She sobered quickly though. "Your sister," she tugged at the hem of her tunic, then finally looked back up at him. "I mean your real sister, how is she?"

Mycroft was silent for a long while. "She is…" here he trailed off, not sure how to answer. "She is safe now, both safe to herself, and to those around her."

"Tell me about her quarters." That seemed a safe topic, as Molly assumed she could not yet know all the details.

Mycroft paused, he licked his lips. "For now, she is back in her usual cell. I have had skylights installed and windows so that she will have natural light and a proper view of the ocean. The windows are reinforced for her protection and ours. Her quarters, which is a single-room cell, is sparsely decorated, there is a plant for her to care for, and her violin to play, she's tending to the plant at least, I plan on having more shipped in. I think she would appreciate orchids as they are so difficult, she would like the challenge. If she progresses to speech, I will ask her if she prefers a more visually pleasing atmosphere, but I highly doubt it. The rotation of guards is the same, but she is allowed regular, weekly family visits, though at the moment she is not speaking to anyone."

Molly nodded, pondering what all that he said. She could see Mycroft was trying. Sherlock had told her something of what Eurus old cell had looked like and shuddered at the thought. She was glad that Eurus had something to care for. Mycroft had seen where he had fallen short, and now given her something to do, something healthful and amusing. He'd given her sunlight and a view, and music.

"Sherlock told me she wasn't speaking yet," Molly said. "He promised that he'd explain the rest to me later, when he's ready."

Mycroft nodded. "Then I shall leave it to him to explain. I hope…I hope you won't think too harshly of me, of my decisions."

"I think everyone has thought badly enough of you," Molly answered. "I don't need to add my opinion to the mix."

It was not a completely comforting answer, but it was honest, and Mycroft appreciated it.

"If it helps ease your conscience at all," Molly ventured a step further into the bedroom. "I don't blame you, for any of this. I think you must have been very young when all of this began, and too much had been put on your shoulders, where blame and responsibility had no place being. I think you had to grow up too soon, Mycroft, and choices you never should have had to make were dumped on you. Whatever happened, I think you were trying to do your best, best for your family, best for the country. Deep down you care very much, but you're only human, you can only do what you can. Beyond that," she shrugged. "Don't think of it. All we can do is our best. When we know better, we do better. Now you know better, so?"

"So I'll do better," Mycroft promised, finding his voice was almost gone. Molly smiled warmly at him.

"Remember what I said the other day," she straightened his tie, smoothing down the shoulders of his waistcoat in a sisterly fashion. "This is not your fault."

Mycroft looked at the floor, unable to answer her, unwilling to lie and say that he believed her.

"Listen to Molly," Both turned to see Sherlock in the doorway bearing a tea tray.

"I've begun to see the benefits of doing so," Mycroft nodded. "She _is_ rather wise."

"For a peon," Molly added, reaching for cup on the tray.

"For my sister in-law," Mycroft corrected.

"No, take the flowered-chintz, that's the caffeine-free," Sherlock warned.

"Bossy," Molly scoffed, and took that cup instead, kissing him gently as she did so.

"You're only allowed twelve ounces a day, I assumed you would prefer a cup of actual coffee."

"If you're going to flirt, kindly do so outside of my bedroom," Mycroft replied, taking his jacket.

"What happens today?" Molly asked.

"We see our parents, and explain it all to them," Sherlock replied.

"Then after you can come to mine for dinner, ah-" she held up a hand when Mycroft opened his mouth to refuse. "As your future sister in-law, and pregnant at that, I insist. You won't feel like eating, but you should because you've both been neglecting your health for far too long." She beamed at them both. "If I'm going to get fat, so are you two,"

Mycroft and Sherlock both frowned at each other. Sherlock though, remained silent, deciding to skip teasing his brother on his weight. In truth, he had not minded his brother's size at all. When he was very small, before everything had happened, it had been one of his favorite things: to curl up on a chair beside Mycroft and make him read to him. He recalled disliking his mother pointing out Mycroft's weight to relatives at one point, recalling the ice in his brother's eyes, and how he'd set his jaw, embarrassed as the adults (who took neither of them seriously to begin with) teased Mycroft.

"Please come," Sherlock said to Mycroft, who had been fully expecting a fat joke from him. "I'd like for you to come."

Clearly touched, Mycroft nodded. "Very well."

"Are you going to bring your violin?" Molly asked Sherlock suddenly. "When you see Eurus next?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I found it in the rubble, it needs repairing, but I can see to that. I had it sent to your flat. I'll take care of it tomorrow."

"Okay. Have whatever you need shipped to my place, it won't be any trouble." Molly promised.

Mycroft finished his tea, setting it back on the tray. "We must be off, I'm afraid,"

"You haven't had an egg yet," Molly reached for the tray, thrusting a plate into his hands, she scooped scrambled eggs onto a piece of toast, then fixed another for Sherlock. "Go on, you both eat, I'll bring the tray down."

They watched her go, Sherlock clearly amused at Mycroft being bossed by the diminutive Molly Hooper.

"You _really_ can't say no to her!" He said, a smile quirking at his lips.

"I didn't see you declining her orders to eat," Mycroft replied smartly before they both looked at the food on their plates. Neither felt like eating.

"We could just toss them in the bin," Sherlock offered.

"Don't you dare throw them out!" Molly shouted up the stairs.

Mycroft and Sherlock glanced at each other, before the latter began to eat, stuffing most of it in his mouth.

"You always wanted a sister," he said around a mouthful of egg and toast.

"Are they always this bossy?" Mycroft asked, taking a generous bite, deciding he was after all, hungry.

"I can't say, really, as I have no intention of calling Molly my sister," Sherlock replied. "I will defer all sisterly questions to you, as you now have _two_ sisters. Aren't you the lucky one?" Finished with his breakfast, Sherlock headed downstairs, calling that he'd wait for Mycroft at the door.

Mycroft, for his part, smiled to himself. He did have two sisters, and he'd certainly count himself fortunate to have the privilege of caring for both of them.


End file.
